


Team Dumpster Babies

by TimesBeingWhatTheyAre



Category: Daredevil (TV), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Gen, Great job guys, Humour, Idiots, Team Red, get out the dumpster, real superheroes, seriously, slight - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22291486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimesBeingWhatTheyAre/pseuds/TimesBeingWhatTheyAre
Summary: “Oh,” Wade said instead, wondering if his lasagne would go off if he left it out of the fridge for the remainder of the day. The answer was probably no, but if he were to leave it out for a few days more, Deadpool thought that mould was a distinct possibility.
Kudos: 66





	Team Dumpster Babies

“So…come around here often?” Deadpool tried, fed up to the back teeth of the silence. He wasn’t really the kind of person who liked silence. Screams, that was more up his alley, but he’d take annoyance as a second best.

There was no response.

Wade opened one of his eyes in a squint, peering towards where Daredevil lay, limbs limp as a corpse, and tried to gage his reaction. Daredevil’s eyes were obscured by his adorable mask, but Wade determined by the slightly pursed mouth that he was at least conscious. Conscious enough to be entertaining.

“…Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” he continued, winking pointlessly at the sky and not bothering to open the other eye yet. He had been a little damaged when they first fell into the dumpster, but they’d been in there long enough that he had pretty much fully healed. He could move if he wanted. He just couldn’t be bothered.

“Yes,” Matt deadpanned, barely bothering to put any sound into the word, and Wade lit up in unholy glee at receiving a reaction.

Then he frowned. All things considered, it was a bit of a lame reaction. He debated the merits of telling Matt so, and then decided it wasn’t interesting enough to pass on.

“Oh,” he said instead, wondering if his lasagne would go off if he left it out of the fridge for the remainder of the day. The answer was probably no, but if he were to leave it out for a few days more, Deadpool thought that mould was a distinct possibility.

A piece of rubbish shifted slightly against his thigh, and Wade frowned, distracted by the scratchy sensation, and clicked at it with his tongue. It didn’t listen, but he quite liked the sound and continued it anyway.

“I will hurt you,” Matt growled tiredly from his spot a few feet away. Oh. Maybe Matt didn’t like the sound as much as he did?

“Baby, I knew you loved me. I can’t believe I’ve found someone so perfect, willing to put up with all my kinks-“

“I will seriously damage you,” Matt reiterated firmly.

“My precious honey-bun, it’s okay. You don’t need to put on a mask around me, I know how much you really love me and you don’t need to hide it- ow!”

There was a feeble punch to his arm (Wade felt the fist, dismissed it as a figment of his imagination then considered again) and he cried out loudly, anguished scream carrying on around the street.

Nobody cared.

“Shut. Up,” Matt hissed, and Wade finally found the motivation to roll over, and again, and again, until he was firmly on top of the other man. 

Matt kicked him feebly, then punched him again, this time in the nose, and grinned savagely at Wade at the blood that began to drip out of it. Wade frowned, then made sure all his weight was on Matt and began laughing manically as Daredevil tried to punch and scratch him a little more, even biting at his hand where Deadpool had rested it over his mouth.

Finally, Matt went limp.

“No fun,” Wade muttered, rolling back over, and over, and over, until he crashed back into his original spot right along the edge of the dumpster. He wriggled happily, forcing the rubbish into divots beneath his limbs, and sighed as he leant back into the pile as if it were a feather bed.

“…Why are you two like this,” a young voice bemoaned from the thin air, and Wade beamed happily as he remembered its owner.

“Petey!” he cheered, raising a fist into the air, then letting it drop back down onto his face. “Ow,” he sulked quietly, and beneath the rubbish pile by their feet, Spiderman sighed.

“Why do I hang out with you guys,” he asked sadly, and Wade had no real answer for that.

Oh wait. He did.

“Because! We are the best!”

“The best at getting our asses kicked maybe,” Peter mumbled, and Wade shrugged; it was a fair comment.

“How long has it been?” Matt asked from the other side, and Peter rustled as he moved his arm to look at his (imaginary) watch.

“5 minutes,” he returned (huh, maybe the watch was real after all).

Wade grinned in delight at the reminder that Claire wouldn’t bother to come out until it had been an hour, and Matt currently couldn’t move. He’d tried. Several times.

Matt moaned under his breath, and Wade set back to the clicking. 

Maybe, if he was loud enough, he could annoy Petey too. Oh, the possibilities.

“Go, Team Red,” Spiderman cheered without enthusiasm. Matt looked like he couldn’t agree more.


End file.
